


we are oxygen

by liesmith



Series: stray (fake chop) [13]
Category: Cow Chop
Genre: Fake Chop, M/M, Tumblr request, genuinely didnt think id be here but, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: aleks is petty and has grudges and why is trevor stuck here doing this with brett of all people?orit's contagious





	we are oxygen

Brett’s scary. Brett’s always been scary, ever since Trevor came to the warehouse one afternoon during the weekend to pick up a taser because Asher dared him that it didn’t hurt to get tased, and Brett was just, uh, _there_ , skulking or something in the dark, and Trevor screamed, and Brett laughed, and Aleks hasn’t let him live it down since, because apparently to Aleks, Brett is a good good man and not scary and big and could probably crush Trevor’s head like a grape between his thighs in his sleep.

And now he’s sitting next to Brett, a leg under him as he sets up a sniper rifle.

Fucking yikes. How’d he get here?

Trevor finishes setting the small kickstand up for the rifle and scoots his butt back, kicking up a bit of dust as he does so, hands immediately fumbling for his phone to distract himself. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Brett move, hunched over as he tilts the butt of the gun up at him, peering down the scope. Trevor tries very hard to pretend he’s still not looking as Brett sits back, knee up and leaning back on a hand, and he’s less out of the corner of Trevor’s eye and more just in his view, now, even when Trevor isn’t focusing.

Having Brett close is…

Anxiety inducing, to say the least.

“You can relax,” Brett’s voice cuts through him and breaks up the noise of the desert, though it’s mostly just cicadas out here, “you rode out here on my bike. You still can’t be that scared of me.”

Trevor tries to ignore the fact Brett’s bringing up him hugging Brett at full force while they zip-da-fucking-doo through the desert out here. “I’m not scared.”

Brett hms, like he knows something about Trevor that Trevor doesn’t know. “You sure?”

No. “Yes.”

Brett hms again but let’s it go and the cicadas start screaming again.

It takes Trevor zero time to realize how much he hates that sound, how it bangs around in his skull and makes his chest tight. “Why are we here?” He knows why, of course he does, but he just needs Brett to start talking again.”

“Because Aleks holds grudges against rich boys that shoulder check him in Hollywood.”

Right. “And we’re getting zero out of this?”

“Not a damn dime,” Brett sighs out, flicking his gaze at Trevor, “just have to wait for dummy to step out of the club and pop him and make Aleks happy.”

Stupid Aleks. “And why isn’t he here? Why did I get stuck with you?”

“Ouch,” Brett teases, adjusting himself to lay down, elbow propped up and fingers laced as he looks up at Trevor, brow raised, “you’re stuck with me because.”

Because why, Trevor wants to say, but realizes how ridiculously childish that sounds. “Right.”

Silence falls again and he lets the cicadas last only a minute before he starts babbling again, words spilling out of his chest. “Why are you so fucking big, dude? And scary? Why do you just hang around the warehouse and do weird shit?”

Brett just stares for a moment before laughing, eyes crinkling. “Shit. Twenty-one questions me, I get it,” He looks back out towards the twinkling lights of the city’s horizon, “I work out, Trevor. I’m not scary, I just give off a bad aura or something. I hang around the warehouse because I’m lonely.”

Cicadas erupt again between them. Trevor wasn’t expecting that at all. Maybe something like… I’m waiting to kill you all one by one. Trevor first, of course, for exposing the plan, then the rest bit by bit. Probably Asher next but that’s just because he’s stupid.

“Oh.”

Trevor doesn’t know what else to say. Brett is sitting back up to check the scope, slowly rotating the gun until he pauses and Trevor yelps at the sound of the gunshot, even through his ear plugs.

Brett sits back calmly and looks back at him, adjusting the baseball cap on his head. “You got anymore questions?”

“No,” Trevor croaks, throat dry, “fuck, dude.” 

“Yep,” Brett says softly, getting to his feet and starting to dismantle the gun. He doesn’t even flinch when his hands touch the barrel, and Trevor knows from his own stupid mistakes, that thing can get hot, especially out here in the dry heat.

He spaced, because the next thing Trevor feels and sees and hear is Brett hauling him to his feet, a firm grip on his upper arm and then he’s fumbling to climb on a motorcycle, and he hugs around Brett even tighter this time, and

They’re stopped outside his shared place with the two other idiots and Trevor just turns his face to look towards the apartment, cheek squished between Brett’s shoulder blades. Brett just steadies the bike, leg straight as he leans back, slightly, but Trevor doesn’t move at all.

“You’re shaking.”

Trevor swallows hard.” Oh.”

“You should go inside,” Brett says, soft, and turns slightly, laying a hand on Trevor’s forearm, squeezing it lightly, “they’ll think I killed you if I keep you out any later.”

“Right,” Trevor slowly climbs to his feet, shoulders scrunched as if he was cold, staring towards the building, “I, uh... “

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking about tonight,” Brett let’s go of his forearm, giving Trevor a soft look, “go to sleep, go do stupid shit with your friends.”

Trevor was quiet and then turned on his heel, looking at Brett. “I… Brett, are you okay?”

“Go to bed, Trevor,” Brett laughs, brushes the question off like Trevor didn’t even ask it, kicking the stand back up, “see you around.”

He’s gone. Trevor’s head hurts and he climbs the front stairs to the building, buzzes himself in with an exhausted slump, feeling like he’s been carrying Atlas’ weight on his neck. Jakob and Asher try to fuck with him but he just crawls into bed, closing his door behind him and hugging a pillow to his chest. Trevor curls up tight and can only think about Brett’s words, echoing like his skull’s a canyon in his head.

_I’m lonely. I’m lonely. I’m lonely._

Trevor just squeezes his eyes shut.

The cicadas still scream over the city noise.

**Author's Note:**

> got a tumblr request for modesthundar which is honestly something i never thought i'd write, but here i am!
> 
> boydamsel.tumblr.com


End file.
